


Like I Need U

by Rainbugi



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Based on a song, Chan-centric, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, Just angst, M/M, No Smut, No cheating, Unrequited Love, do hanse/kang seungsik - Freeform, im sorry, this is angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27219325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbugi/pseuds/Rainbugi
Summary: Chan doesn't expect to catch feelings when Hanse asks him to be his fuckbuddy, much less to fall in love. But he does, and Hanse doesn't.
Relationships: Do Hanse & Heo Chan, Do Hanse/Heo Chan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29
Collections: VICFEST®—round two!





	Like I Need U

**Author's Note:**

> prompt 004: A fic based off the author’s interpretation of the song “like i need u” by keshi
> 
> hi! i have never written anything like this hhh but it was a lot of fun to write! its just angst, as i interpreted the song to be very sad, so you have been warned <33 enjoy! thank you to the prompter for this great prompt!!

“Never fuck your friends, it’s a recipe for disaster” Chan was told. He had scoffed at the words and thrown all caution into the wind when Hanse had asked him to become his ‘fuckbuddy’, as he put it so eloquently. They had both been too busy to date, or to go out and go through the trouble of finding a hook-up. Being roommates, this seemed like the ideal solution.

That was two months ago. Chan is currently wide awake, with his arms wrapped securely around a sleeping and fucked out Hanse, and his heart clenches painfully when Hanse lets out a soft snore. Chan curses under his breath and untangles himself carefully. Hanse sleeps on like a brick as Chan slips out of the room, leaning against the door as soon as it’s fully closed.

He drops down and buries his head in his hands. He’s absolutely fucked. He said he wouldn’t catch feelings, so why does his heart pound painfully with the amount of feelings he’s caught? He’s an idiot. He should’ve never agreed to this. But it’s too late to back out.

He eventually gets up and trudges over to his room, where he flops down and curls up under his blanket, cursing his stupid heart for the weak spot he has for the man sleeping in the other room. _It’s not too bad_ , he tells himself, _I can still get over him._

Another month later Chan is definitely not over Hanse. In fact, with how Hanse has called him over to his room almost every night the past four weeks, he’s felt himself fall hopelessly deeper and deeper. Every time they kiss it’s magical. His heart beats out of his chest just thinking about Hanse’s soft lips. And his body, God, his body is _hot._ Chan is absolutely _fucked._

And so the drinking starts. At first it’s occasional, Chan slipping out of Hanse’s bed after they fuck to grab himself a few beers, maybe some Soju. Not enough to get drunk, but enough to forget for a bit how his heart clenches in his chest and his stomach tries to do somersaults every time Hanse smiles. Enough to create a haze that lets him sleep, instead of spending his nights thinking of holding Hanse’s hand.

After a few weeks, however, it’s every night, even if Hanse doesn’t call him over. Because they spend time together, as friends. They spend time in their shared couch of their shared living space, watching movies on the tv they bought together. Chan loves the way Hanse will fall into his shoulder with a soft sigh when he gets a bit too tired to properly sit up. He loves the way Hanse will hold onto him, his usual ‘tough’ demeanor melting away as he cries softly at the sad moments in the movies.

Chan will wipe those tears away, and when Hanse falls asleep, he’ll carry him to his room, tuck him in and head over to the kitchen to enlargen the dent in their vodka supply. Sometimes Hanse still calls him over, if he wakes up, and Chan acts as though he isn’t drunk, though how Hanse doesn’t smell the alcohol on his breath or notices his trembling is beyond Chan.

Then, Hanse’s calls for him start decreasing. At first Chan is relieved his best friend and major crush isn’t such a horny demon attacking his heart anymore, but then he notices that on a lot of days when he’s not called over, Hanse isn’t even home. He waits up for him one night, and when he eventually stumbles into their apartment the marks on his neck and his swollen lips are more than enough for Chan to be able to tell.

He’s found someone else. They talked about this, at the start. Neither of them are under any obligation to stick to just one sexual partner, nor to tell the other of any other adventures. They fuck safe, so diseases aren’t a concern. What is a concern, to Chan at least, is how his heart shatters when he realizes. He barely holds back his tears as Hanse tiredly bids him goodnight and heads to his room.

When he gets to his room, he breaks. He breaks even though he knew this would happen, even though there was never a way he was ever going to be more than just a friend to Hanse. But if they’re fucking can he really call them just friends? Chan might be biased, but he thinks they have to be at least more than that, to be able to be so comfortable with each other.

To Hanse, however, it clearly wasn’t like that. He could effortlessly strip his best friend naked and say all sorts of dirty things, kissing him and then fucking, without it ever meaning anything more. Chan couldn’t blame him. They both knew what they were getting into, and he has still not told Hanse of his feelings. To Hanse, Chan feels the exact same way. And that makes it hurt more.

How could Hanse not see how this was slowly tearing Chan apart? More and more liquor goes missing from their cupboard, and some nights Chan rejects Hanse’s calls, telling him he’s too tired, when really he’s just too drunk. He lays in bed softly crying into his pillows as Hanse undoubtedly goes out to find a different way of fulfilling his needs.

Chan is an idiot. He’s fully aware of this fact. Tonight, Hanse is out again, and Chan’s had too much, far too much to drink. He’s intoxicated, he doesn’t realize what he’s doing, doesn’t even realize he’s holding a phone, until a sleepy voice sounds on the other side of the line. The shock of hearing Hanse, so clearly fucked out and just woken up from his post-sex nap, snaps him out of it. Suddenly his mind is all too clear.

He hears another voice on the other side of the line asking who it is, and Hanse answers ‘just my roommate’. That stings more than Chan ever expected. He’s not even so much as a friend? Hanse asks him what’s up, but he can’t seem to form any proper thoughts, let alone sentences. Eventually he settles on a simple question, one that doesn’t show the amount of pain he’s in.

“You’re not coming home tonight?” He’s surprised at how steady his voice is. The words aren’t even slurred together.

“Ah no, sorry, I meant to text. I’m staying the night here. Sorry to make you worry, Chanie.” Chan barely suppresses the sob that threatens to wrack his whole body.

“That’s cool, sleep well.” He answers too quietly, but Hanse hums anyway and hangs up.

Finally, it gets through to Chan’s brain fully, in all its painful glory: Hanse doesn’t need him. Not in the way that Chan does, and maybe not at all anymore. He feels like he’s going to throw up, both from the amount of alcohol he’s consumed, and from the pain of getting his heart ripped out of his chest.

He doubles over and lets the sobs take over his body, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t throw up. Eventually, he falls to the floor, where he curls into himself until the tears stop running. His vision remains blurry, and he vaguely wonders if he’s that drunk, before he passes out completely.

He’s woken by soft, strong arms picking him up and carrying him over to his bed. His heavy body hits the mattress a bit too harshly, and he hears a muttered apology. A blanket is tossed over him and then the door closes again and he’s alone, so alone. He drifts in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of too much time passing, his mind numb.

He can’t be bothered to get out of bed, not even when the clock on his nightstand reads 4 pm, but then someone softly knocks on his door. He groans and covers his head with his blanket, the light of the room suddenly too bright, and the soft noise still too loud, but the covers don’t block out Hanse’s worried voice.

“Are you okay? Chan?” A brief pause. “Can I come in?”

“Please don’t.” He whispers, and he knows the other doesn’t hear it, but Hanse understands him well, maybe too well, so he doesn’t enter.

When Chan finally does drag himself out of bed, if only because he’s absolutely parched, there’s a bowl of cold soup, with a note next to it, waiting for him on the table.

_Hey Chanie. I’m out with a friend, here’s some soup to deal with your hangover. Hope you feel better soon <3 _

Chan crumples the note in his hand as tears blurr his vision again. Stupid, caring Hanse and his stupid ‘friend’. Chan isn’t dumb; Hanse’s gone out on a date, probably with that person he was with last night. Hanse’s worried about the wrong pain; the hangover is nothing compared to the pain the torn fragments of his heart cause him.

Eventually he gets himself under control. He heats up the soup, a bit too mechanically, and eats it. It puts a bit of strength back into his body. He gathers it to get up and take a shower. The hot water washes away the last traces of his headache, but the clarity gives him too much room to think. His head fills itself with thoughts of the strong arms that lifted him into bed last night.

How long has it been since the last time he and Hanse were that intimate with each other? Even if it was just cuddling on the couch? Or just a small good morning hug? The past days Hanse has been out every night, Chan realizes and pain shoots through his chest again. He’s been too drunk to even notice how much time has passed, is it Friday? Saturday? He doesn’t know.

A few nights later (has it been a week? A month?) he finds himself reaching in the cabinet again. He grabs a bottle of some horrid looking green stuff and a shot glass and settles on the couch with a shitty scary movie that hopefully takes his mind off things. 

A few shots in and he’s already wasted, his mind a blurry mess as he reacts to the jumpscares far too late and eventually just turns the movie off, the mix of alcohol and horror doing strange things to his sense of realism. He simply sits there, drunk out of his mind, waiting for enough time to pass so he can go sleep again.

A noise throws him off, his head whipping around wildly to locate it. He’s supposed to be home alone, Hanse is with his friend (boyfriend? He’s pretty sure Hanse told him about the guy at some point that week). He frowns and struggles to get up and inspect, when Hanse stumbles into their apartment.

He casts one look at Chan and his face immediately falls into worry as he hurries to Chan’s side. He helps him sit back down, mumbling things that Chan can’t make out. At some point he wipes at Chan’s face, and Chan realizes he’s crying. Great. So much for subtlety.

“Chan?” Hanse asks softly, cupping Chan’s cheeks to keep his head pointed in the right direction. Chan attempts to focus on his face and it drifts in and out of focus.

“Still beautiful.” He mumbles, not really aware that he’s voicing his thoughts. Hanse frowns.

“Chan are you okay? What happened?” He sounds so worried Chan actually sobers up a bit.

“You’re home?” He asks, bewildered. He’s not sure the words leave his lips but Hanse answers.

“I was out, but I came home because you weren’t answering your texts and I thought something bad had happened. Clearly I was right.”

“Nothn happnd.” The words sound slurred even to Chan, and he cringes at himself.

“Really? Then what is all this?” Hanse gestures at him, keeping one hand on his shoulder still to keep him steady.

“M’just a bit drunk.” Chan mumbles, attempting to swat his hand away.

“Chan, do you think I’m an idiot?” Hanse asks, a hint of anger to his tone.

“No!” Chan shouts, too loud. “Of course not, you’re the smartest person I know.”

“Then why did you think I wouldn’t notice?” His tone is softer, but that anger is still present in his eyes. Chan feels his stomach churn. He’s not sober enough for this conversation. “You’ve been so out of it the past weeks. You barely speak to me, you hardly answer your texts and you’re drunk almost every night!”

“I’m sorry.” Chan mumbles stupidly.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that. Just tell me what’s going on? I’m your best friend, you can tell me when something’s bothering you.” Hanse’s anger is gone and Chan feels his eyes fill up again.

“I can’t.” He mumbles weakly, but Hanse looks so desperate, Chan knows he’ll give in if he just asks one more time. “Please don’t-”

“Just tell me.” Hanse interrupts him. “I’m here for you, no matter what, okay?” And Chan breaks some more.

“That’s just it isn’t it,” he says through the tears and he can’t even tell if he’s speaking understandable English. “You’re here, but not in the way I want you to be. You’re here, saying we’re just friends. But I love you.” The words stumble out one after the other, with occasionally sobs interrupting them. Hanse’s eyes grow wide, and finally his hand falls off Chan’s shoulder.

“How- how long have you felt that way?” He asks quietly, the pity so very evident in his voice and expression.

“A while.” Chan mutters, looking down. “Pretty much since the beginning.”

Hanse is quiet for a moment, processing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He eventually asks, and Chan can tell he’s hurt.

“I didn’t want to lose you.” Chan feels like he’s crying all the alcohol out of his body, his mind becoming clearer and with it the pain, the unimaginably heavy pain of reality. “I didn’t want to lose being with you.”

“Chan…” Hanse starts, but Chan holds up his hand, his breathing laboured through the tears.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I know you’ve found someone. And Hanse, I want you to be happy.” The words are out before he’s actually thought about them, but he realizes it’s true. He wants Hanse to be happy. Even if that’s not with him. “I’ll be okay, I just need time.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Hanse asks, hesitant.

“You were going to anyway, weren’t you?” Memories of Hanse talking on the phone about finding an apartment with his partner spring back into Chan’s head. Just how much time has really passed? His lip trembles again, but this time at how much he’s let himself fall apart.

“Well, yes. We found a place a few days ago, but it’s not set yet.” Hanse says and he sounds apologetic.

“Don’t feel bad, I’m happy for you, really.” Chan says earnestly. He’s been selfish, far too selfish, but he intends to change that. Perhaps he really needed to just talk about his feelings. He feels better already.

“Thanks.” Hanse says, a soft smile appearing on his face. Chan’s heart clenches with the need to throw himself forward and press their lips together, but he’s not drunk enough anymore to do something so irrational. Instead, he smiles back. He might not mean it, but it makes Hanse’s face light up again, so it’s worth it.

Chan bids him goodnight, with the excuse of being too tired and drunk to continue this conversation. Hanse reaches for him briefly, but lets his hands drop to his sides when he sees Chan wince. Chan curses himself. Apparently he’s still too drunk to suppress his reactions.

He gets to bed, and again the tears come. He doesn’t stop them, instead just letting them run along his stoic face. Eventually he falls into a restless sleep, and he wakes up with his pillow wetter than it should be. He cried through his sleep, apparently. He shakes himself out of his stupor and heads into the kitchen for the first breakfast in weeks (months? He should check the date at some point).

Hanse is gone, of course he is. And Chan isn’t sure if he’ll come back. He packed his things a few days after the Conversation and left in the morning, before Chan was awake. Now Chan sits on their couch, his couch, alone, and he feels the walls close in on him. He’s barely seen Hanse the past week. Clearly the other felt too uncomfortable to be around chan. And now he’s gone.

Chan manages to keep his drinking in check, most days. He gets a new roommate, and they seem to get along just fine, but maybe that’s because Chan is almost always hauled away in his room, and interactions don’t happen much. He misses Hanse. Sometimes he sends him a goodnight message, and then he lays in bed, waiting for him to text back. He always does, but it’s short and awkward and Chan knows Hanse is just unsure of whether or not to respond to him or give him space.

Chan doesn’t know either. He wishes he knew what would help, but he’s lost. He knows Hanse is happy, and that pulls him through the days, but he doesn’t know if he should sever ties entirely. Can he just throw away a friendship of several years like that? Just because he caught a few feelings?

He decides he can’t. He’ll need time to get over Hanse, but he won’t let that come in between them. He texts him that night, determined to save their friendship. He has to rewrite the message several times, to find the right words to say, but then eventually he sends it out.

Chan: “I don’t want to lose you. However, I know I’ll never get over you if I keep talking to you, so for now I’m going to stop. I get it if you don’t want to wait around, so I won’t blame you if this is the last time we speak, but I really hope you can wait for me. I love you, first and foremost as a friend.”

He waits again, his head buried in his hands, too afraid to look at his phone until he hears the message pop up.

Hanse: “I’ll be here, I promise. Take all the time you need. I love you too.”

The fact that Hanse didn’t feel the need to specify that his love is merely platonic warms Chan’s heart, in a different way than the messages usually do. He really still is Chan’s best friend. And that will be enough, eventually.

It takes a while, several weeks, but slowly Chan feels more normal again. He goes about his days, even talks to his new roommate, who he learns is called Seungwoo. He gets a job and makes some friends, and eventually he starts getting excited about telling Hanse about his day, without the painful throbbing to his heart. 

He waits a little longer, just to be sure, but after a full month and a half (he’s finally aware of the passage of time again), he finally sends Hanse a message again. It feels awkward, and he has no idea how to start fixing their friendship, if it’s fixable.

Chan: “Hey Sese. How are you?”

He doesn’t have to wait long for a response.

Hanse: “Hi, Chanie. I’m doing fine. How are you?”

It’s too formal, nothing like the texts they would have, but Chan is happy. Hanse didn’t go back on his word, he’s still there. He feels like they can fix this.

Chan: “I’m good. I got a job, you’d be proud of me. Made a few friends too.”

Hanse: “That sounds lovely, and you’re right: I am proud c:”

Chan feels warmth fill him, but it’s no longer in that way that it used to. He supposes he really did get over his feelings.

Chan: “How’s things with Seungsik?”

Hanse: “They’re amazing, but are you sure you want to talk about that?”

Chan scoffs at his phone and rolls his eyes before typing a response.

Chan: “>:( yes”

Chan: “I’m good now, I promise. I wouldn’t have messaged if I wasn’t.”

Hanse: “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure.”

Chan: “I know, and it’s sweet, but unnecessary :3”

Hanse: “Then, let me tell you, we’re doing amazing. We just adopted a dog, from the shelter, and it’s the cutest thing ever! You need to meet him.”

Chan smiles at his phone as he gets message after message, detailing the adventures of Hanse, Seungsik and their dog Ben, which was apparently the name the shelter had given him. When it’s finally his turn, he tells them (Seungsik has apparently been reading along over Hanse’s shoulder) about his job, his friends and his new roommate. They talk far too long, until Hanse complains he’ll be too tired to get up if he doesn’t sleep. They end the conversation with the promise of continuing it the next day. Chan feels happy, a feeling he hasn’t known in a while.

 _Things will be alright,_ he thinks when he wakes up the next morning. He walks into the kitchen and freezes. _Well maybe not_ shoots through his head, because what he didn’t realize when he spent most of his time moping around in his room, is that his new roommate Seungwoo is really pretty and _fucking hot._ Chan is _fucked._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! i hope you enjoyed :> i didnt want it to end too sad, chan didnt deserve that, so he got his life back on track :3 thats not rly part of the song i know, but it doesnt really have an end to the story and i wanted there to be one ;-;


End file.
